


The Coffee Shop AU that got way out of hand

by Anonymous



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Meet-Cute, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Not your typical meet cute at a coffee shop.In which they’re all lawyers and office sex ensues*lots of handwaiving here folks





	The Coffee Shop AU that got way out of hand

**Author's Note:**

> No beta never beta 
> 
> I wanted a coffee shop AU
> 
> Ummm I don’t know what happened 
> 
> This is basically porn

“No Shuri, you can’t take the toaster apart just because you’re bored! Why don’t you just head over to the Stark house and hang out with Peter? You can take Tony’s toaster apart” T’Challa chuckled as he ducked into the coffee shop that had recently opened.

The shop wasn’t what you would call homey, it had sleek lines and sharp angles. It looked very... efficient. There were black leather couches spread out throughout the shop and metal tables with glass tops dotted here and there. There were men in tailored suits walking in and out constantly. Never stopping, never looking up from their iPhones.

T’Challa looked down at his scuffed shoes, wool cardigan, jeans, and wrinkled Oxford shirt. What was he doing here. He turned around when he felt something hit his back.

“Now, why would you just stand there?! Look at this!” There was a short man with what looked like ice coffee dripping down his perfectly pressed suit. “Well, you overly tall human?!” His eyes were beautiful, piercing blue staring at T’Challa and holy shit he needed to know what those blue eyes looked like staring up at him from underneath him.

“Maybe if you looked up from your phone you would see that there are people other than yourself ”, T’Challa shot back before he could stop himself. He watched bemusedly as blue eyes widened and narrowed.

“This is a thousand dollar suit. You will pay for this!” T’Challa sighed and nodded before pulling out a business card.

“Just send the invoice to the address there and my secretary will be more than happy to handle it.” Okoye would be pissed and send a passive aggressive letter back to the man.

“Yeah alright whatever.” The blue eyed stranger walked out after wiping himself off as best as possible with the napkins offered to him by the young man he was with.

“His name is Everett Ross, and I’m Erik, but you look a hell of a lot more interested in him.” The young man smirked at T’Challa’s resulting cough attack.

“You’re a very attractive young man,” and he was, deep brown eyes, mocha skin, plump lips, and what look like an absolutely ripped body underneath his own suit. “But-“

“Blue eyes that practically beg to be put in their place do it for ya more huh?”

“Well, what can I say?” T’Challa smiled at Erik, the younger man laughed and shook his head.

“I’m his associate and I know for a fact he’s single and needs a little stress release in his life.” Erik winked as he handed T’Challa Everett’s card before walking out of the shop.

 _Stark, Ross, and Banner_  
      Everett Ross   
     Senior Partner

Well, it looked like T’Challa would have an excuse to visit Tony at work today.

——

  
“Bagheera! What brings you to my humble office” Tony’s office was not humble. The man himself was not humble, but he was a good guy and T’Challa valued the friendship they had built between them.

“I ran into someone that peaked my interest at the coffee shop. Turns out they work here”

“Oh really?? I wonder who it was then. Hmm” Tony hmmed and hummed as he went through the firms roster. “Ross, it had to be Ross, he just has this _“Please, put me on my knees”_ air about him doesn’t he?”

T’Challa chuckled, “you’re right old friend, I was hoping to catch him, you know, casually,” T’Challa smirked. This was going to be interesting.

“Well-“ Tony cut himself off as Ross himself entered his office in a different suit.

“You’ll never believe what happened to me! Some idiot decided to be smart and stand in the middle the aisle and made me spill coffee all over myself. I had to go home to change” Ross stopped his tirade when he noticed who was sitting in the chair in front of Tony. His eyes narrowed and his posture stiffened, T’Challa could tell he was beginning to close himself off.

“Ross darling this is one of my oldest friends in the world T’Challa. T’Challa this is another one of my oldest friends and business partner Everett Ross.” T’Challa stood shook Everett’s offered hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Ross, under better circumstances of course.” T’Challa lowered his voice and gripped Everett’s hand tighter, Everett’s breath hitched, his eyes lost focus and he leaned forward into T’Challa. Desired effect achieved, T’Challa let go and smiled at him as Erik sauntered in.

“Hey coffee man! What are you going here?” Erik shook T’Challa’s hand before sitting down on the corner of Tony’s desk, neither Erick or T’Challa missed the way Tony stared at the curve of Eriks ass.

“Tony no.” Everett said firmly.

“Tony no.” T’Challa seconded as a mutinous look grew on Tony’s face.

“Tony yes.” Erik intoned smiling smugly at the older men. “You had your chance T’Challa.”

“I’m sorry what? When did he have his chance exactly?” Everett demanded and crossed his arms glaring at T’Challa and Erik.

“At the coffee shop, after you stormed out. I gave him my number.” Erik told Everett with a smile on his face, knowing that it would bother his mentor.

“And you took it?!” Everett rounded on T'Challa, anger and envy evident on his face. T’Challa smirked smugly, oh yes he would have those pretty blue eyes blown with pleasure before the day was through.

“No, he said I wasn’t his type,” Erik rolled his shoulders and preened under Tony’s, not in any way discrete, gaze.

“Tony no.” T’Challa and Everett both practically shouted at the man.

“Oh fine. Stevens out of my office. Go tempt someone else.” Erik stood and strutted out, winking at T’Challa as he shut the heavy wooden doors behind him.

“Did he just wink at you?!” Everett demanded shirilly, “first you ruin my suit and now you corrupt my associate!?” The man was practically pouting at T’Challa and Tony elected to ignore them in favour of the file his secretary had thrown at him earlier.

“Don’t worry kitten,” T’Challa stepped in as close as possible to Everett, forcing Everett to look up at him, “you’re the only person I’m interested in here.”

Everett gulped and stuttered, “yeah well, you made me spill coffee all over myself and hit on my associate. Kinda hard to believe buddy.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes “I didn’t hit on Erik, he hit on me, besides he wouldn’t look half as good on his knees as you would” T’Challa smiled smugly as Everett’s eyes glazed over with ill hidden lust.

“I’m just gonna pretend I’m not hearing any of this I guess” Tony muttered to himself.

“Office- we’re going to my office. Now” Everett turned quickly on his feet and walked out. T’Challa gave himself a moment to follow.

“Cancel my meetings and I will not be taking any calls Natalie.” Everett shouted out as he pushed T’Challa through the doors

“Of course sir.”

——  
The second the doors of Everett’s office slammed shut behind them T’Challa lifted Everett up, which yeah, Everett was so fucking into it it burned, and shoved him against the door so they could finally kiss, desperate and filthy. Everett got legs up and hooked around T’Challa’s hips as they pulled and scratched at each other's clothing, and he spent the entire morning fucking pissed that some tall asshole had ruined his second favourite suit, but now all he wants is to be naked and feeling T'Challa's skin pressed against his own.

"We’re wearing way too many clothes ," he gasped. "T’Challa-“

T’Challa didn’t even bother to give Everett a response, just gripped his ass in his stupidly big and strong hands and carried him over to Everett’s desk. He laid Everett out on it and started taking his fancy suit apart, piece by piece

When T’Challa couldn’t get the buttons undone he grabbed the shirt in the middle and ripped it open, buttons popping off, and Everett let out the most embarrassing whimper and fuck, that's probably the hottest thing a guy has ever done to him.T’Challa doesn't even pull it off all the way he just shoves it down around Everett’s body trapping his arms and then proceeded to flip him over.

Honestly, Everett is about to be fucked over his own desk and all this manhandling is really working for him, he always thought it would, but until T’Challa he couldn’t find a guy that would just hold him down and fuck him.

T’Challa ripped his briefs off and shit that was hot as fuck omygosh is this really happening? and then Everett is naked except for the shirt tangled round his arms but now he’s bent over his desk that’s worth thousands of dollars with his ass in the air. He'd probably feel kind of ashamed and shy but he’s kind of desperate for it, and he can't help whimpering when T’Challa gropes his bare ass, His hands huge and burning on Everett’s skin.

"There’s lube in the left hand drawer.” Everett gasps out helpfully. T’Challa chuckles and leans over to grab it.

“So you just happen to have lube in your desk?”

“Confiscated it from Tony after I saw him looking at my associate for too long so hurry up and fuck me."

"Bossy, I don't have condoms, though."

"Christ," Everett groans. "How dare you come in here and seduce me and not have a condom. I got tested three months ago and I’m clean. I haven’t had sex since then. You?”

“Got tested a month ago. Clean”

“Perfect, now fuck me already!” T’Challa chuckled and opened his jeans enough to his cock out.

T’Challa is huge, by far the biggest guy he's ever gotten fucked by, and holy shit Everett is going to do whatever it takes to make sure that he continues to get dicked down by T’Challa only for the foreseeable future.

Everett’s legs are trembling by the time T’Challa slicks his fingers up and presses them against his hole. "Breathe kitten," T’Challa commands quietly. "I'll go slow."

"Fuck your slow," Everett gasps. "Give me two right now."

T’Challa laughed, “demanding little Kitten aren’t you? Don’t worry beloved, I’ll give you what you need”

"Deep breath," T’Challa commands and then his thick, firm, fucking brilliant fingers push past the resistance of Everett’s rim and don’t stop til the second knuckle.

"Okay?" T’Challa asks.

"Okay," Everett gasps. "Keep going."

"I'm not going to stop," T’Challa “unless you say red.”

" I won’t I won’t, just please" Everett whines needily.

He’s rewarded by T’Challa sinking his fingers all the way in, opening him up steadily and expertly, he tries to spread his legs wider, trying to tempt T’Challa into going faster, going deeper.

T’Challa just fucks his fingers slowly in and out of him.

"Are you okay kitten?" T’Challa asks.

Everett just pushes back on T’Challa’s fingers just to show him how ok he is, and T’Challa chuckles darkly in response.

"Yeah, okay, I got you," T’Challa says and then he crooks fingers in and upwards, and Everett feels a jolt of electricity zip up his spine when T’Challa’s fingertips brush over his prostate.

"Fuck," Everett whimpers, he wishes he had something to hold on to. Something to steady himself with, but his arms are trapped in his torn shirt."Fuck, fuck, T’Challa"

"Yeah?" T’Challa said, sounding self-satisfied and smug as hell, and then he makes Everett lose his mind by brushing quick, feather soft strokes against his prostate until Everett’s writhing on his fingers, panting into his desk, drooling.

"Fuck you," Everett tries to gasp out as best he can . "Come on, I'm ready, T’Challa "

"You sure?" T’Challa asks teasingly . "You might need another one." He fans his fingers open inside Everett, stretching him wide, and Everett tries very desperately not to whine, he fails.

"Yes, I'm sure," he says, trembling on his feet. Yeah, T’Challa’s big but he's done waiting. "T’Challa - fucking hell, fuck me, please - "

"God," T’Challa groans, and Everett is very happy to hear the shakiness in his voice that shows that he's not as unaffected as he seems. "Fuck, okay, I'm going to - "

"Do it," Everett whines, and when T’Challa pulls his fingers out Everett turns to look back over his shoulder, to watch T’Challa slick up his fat cock, the head gleaming with precome, thick and bulbous. Fuck, Everett is dying for that, he pushes himself up on his toes, tilting offering himself up to T’Challa.

T’Challa parts Everett’s cheeks open with one hand and the other guides the tip of his cock to Everett’s hole. "You're so beautiful here kitten" he says. "I'm going to destroy you."

  
"Then stop talking and do it," Everett yells.

T’Challa pushes in with a breath stopping thrust, and Everett melts against the wood of his desk, whining and whimpering at the inescapable, relentless, fucking perfect stretch of T’Challa’s wide cock fucking his hole open and by the time T’Challa finally bottoms out Everett’s desperate and shivering.

T’Challa is gripping Everett’s hip brutally tight to hold him steady and uses the other to keep his head pressed up against the desk and Everett goes hot and desperate all over again as T’Challa pulls out and forces his cock back in.

Everett can't move, T’Challa’s strong enough to keep him still and he's still tangled up in his shirt. All he can do is take it, moan at each forceful thrust as he tries to open his legs wider and wider still so T’Challa can fuck in deeper. He lifts himself onto tiptoes for it, and T’Challa shifts slightly so his cock slides perfectly over Everett’s prostate, and Everett fucking screams.

"Oh my god," he gasps, words spilling out in a tumble. "Yeah, yes there, baby"

"I got you," T’Challa says again, and fucks in nailing Everett’s prostate just right with every stroke, and Everett falls apart on T’Challa’s cock; a shaky mess of pleasure and the bright hot zing of T’Challa’s thick cock rubbing back and forth over his prostate.

"Yes," Everett moans biting his dry lips, "yes, right there please baby please - "

T’Challa moves his hand to the back of his neck and holds him down, and Everett is dying because T’Challa is hitting all his kinks perfectly and he can feel his orgasm start to build up. He considers telling T'Challa to slow down for a second so he can hold off his orgasm, and then decides, fuck it because hasn't been fucked this good, this thoroughly, in years.

"Okay, yeah, you're right, don't stop," he says, nonsensically. "Don't you dare fucking stop, T’Challa right there, okay, just fuck me there - I'm gonna - "

T’Challa growls and slams into him, hard enough that his thighs thud into the edge of his desk- he'll have some nice bruises there tomorrow, and most likely where T’Challa’s gripping him, and that is pushing him closer to orgasm - but he can only concentrate on the feeling of T’Challa’s cock fucking him so good.

"I'm coming," he chokes, and he is, his dick pulsing thick spurts of come without even a single touch he’s had great orgasms but never like this: sobbing into his desk and his toes curling as wave after wave of intense pleasure wash over him, his muscles locking tight and squeezing down on T’Challa as T’Challa fucks him relentlessly through his mind numbing orgasm without stopping.

T’Challa pulls out slowly, and Everett sucks in a breath at the soreness - but hes really fucking into it , because it means he's been thoroughly and excellently fucked.

  
He’s screams when T’Challa shoves his still hard cock fuckkk back in. Tears are streaming down his face as T’Challa continues to trust into his over sensitive body. T’Challa continues for half a dozen more pumps before stopping and fuck Everett can feel the flush of hot cum filling him up and fuck he feels so full.

T’Challa pulls out slowly and shushes Everett as he continues to whine and whimper. “Quiet kitten” he pulls Everett’s office chair to him and sits down after putting Everett on his knees in front of him. Everett is presented with T’Challa’s beautiful cock and whines as T’Challa grips the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Clean me up kitten, you’ve made quite a mess.” Everett moans and begins to lick the remaining cum and lube off of T'Challa's cock. He can feel T’Challa cum dripping out of his hole and he whines. He’s wants to keep all of it inside him.

He’s sucking softly on the head of T'Challa's, his head resting on a clothed muscular thigh when the man speaks again “you will be wearing my collar the next time we do this kitten and afterwards I will plug your little hole to keep you ready for me.” Everett hums happily in response, eyes shifting upwards to take in T’Challa, looking like a god among men.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how this went from “hey Everett should own a coffeehouse to Everett is a uptight lawyer that is practically begging for a good dicking. 
> 
> No beta   
> Never beta   
> We die like men


End file.
